


Train Rides and Lost Gloves

by zerostumbleine33



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerostumbleine33/pseuds/zerostumbleine33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean agrees to spend Christmas with Cas' family, so they hop a train together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Train Rides and Lost Gloves

The rumbling of the train on the tracks shook them ever so slightly in their seats, jangling the keys in Dean’s dark green canvas jacket. Snow fell gently outside the window, a beautiful reminder of the winter holiday in the Midwest. It wasn’t quite Christmas yet, just a few days more, but Dean tried to let himself settle into the new feeling of being part of something more. He looked to his left at his friend beside him, his friend or maybe more. That was the “something more” thing he wasn’t quite sure about. They’d danced around it all year at college, it seemed like the timing was just never right. But then Cas invited him to Chicago, to spend the Christmas in the city with his family, and Dean couldn’t find a reason to say no. It didn’t help that Sam had already told Dean that he wasn’t going to afford a flight back home to Kansas, and well...that was about all the family Dean had left anyway, not counting his drunken father who he hadn’t heard from since he’d left for school. 

“You’re doing it again,” Cas said quietly, his dark blue eyes gazing at Dean gently.

Their shoulders touched as Dean turned away from the window to look at his friend. “Doing what?”

“You’re anxious about something.” Dean followed Cas’ gaze down to his hands, balled in soft fists against his side. 

“No, I’m not,” Dean replied curtly, defensively, as he unfurled his hands. It was a habit he had. 

“Are you worried about meeting my family?” 

Dean sighed and shook his head, as odd as it was, he wasn’t concerned about that. He was more worried about the fucking butterflies in his stomach every time he looked at Cas and his stupid messy brown hair and his blue eyes which always seemed to calm him no matter what. Well, except for this, because Dean’s stomach was twisted all in knots from just sitting close enough to smell the faint Whitewater Rush body soap that belonged to Cas and that he happened to use whenever he could. 

“I’m good, I promise,” Dean finally replied as he gave Cas a small smile. “Just not used to having many plans for the holidays.”

Cas seemed to contemplate his response for a moment but then nodded. “I understand.” 

Dean took a deep breath and grinned, trying to act normal. “So are we stopping to eat once we get there, or what? I’m starving.”

It seemed to do the trick and Cas rolled his eyes, settling down more comfortably in his seat. “Trust me, Dean, I wouldn’t forget to feed you. You get cranky when you don’t eat.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and picked up one of his gloves from his lap, where it had been neatly tucked inside his winter hat. With a well-practiced move, he flung it at Cas, hitting him squarely in the face.

“My point is made,” Cas said sarcastically, tossing Dean’s glove back towards him.

The train was crowded. They’d had to cram their duffle bags beneath their seat bench and squeeze into the two person seat together, along with their winter coats, hats, and gloves. All of which had to be promptly removed due to the warm cabin. Dean’s eyes focused on the two tickets clipped in front of him on the navy seat, the one’s he’d begged Cas to at least let him pay for. It was a reminder of how far they’d come, because Cas had finally relented, understanding that Dean’s pride was worth more than the weekend passes. 

Every small jostle of the train had them sliding along the blue vinyl seats into one another, their shoulders brushing and hands occasionally touching on the very small space on the seat between them. It sent a flush straight to Dean’s cheeks each time, and even more-so as their trip continued and Cas never once seemed to flinch or pull away. He was impossible to figure out. Was he just so indifferent that the occasional touching wasn’t a big deal? It was damn near infuriating and yet Dean felt himself getting hot as he realized he’d been staring at Cas again, or more specifically, his very pink and slightly chapped lips. Maybe I’ll get him some chapstick, Dean thought idly to himself before realizing just how couply it sounded. He found himself licking his own lips in uncertainty, his eyes catching Cas’ at just the wrong time.

Cas looked away this time first, digging his hand around in his pocket for his phone. Dean coughed to break the awkward silence. This is what he’d been freaking out about. The staring thing, and words being at the tips of their tongues but nothing being said. It was so damn awkward, Dean could barely stand it. He tapped his fingers on his knees as he looked out the window again, wondering just how many stops away they were from Chicago.

“We just passed Oak Park, so we’re getting close,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. 

“Sounds good, Cas.” Dean replied, his eyes focused on the snow outside. “It’s really coming down now.”

Cas scooted closer and rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder as he leaned forward to look. “I was hoping to walk down to Michigan Avenue with you, but now I’m not sure,” he said, his tone slightly disappointed. 

Dean turned his head, realizing too late that they were nearly nose to nose. His heart pounded in his chest but he didn’t pull away. “I can handle a little bit of snow,” he said, his voice gravely and rough. 

Cas sat back in his seat and grinned. “I should have known you’d say that,” Cas paused and laughed, “but you haven’t experienced a Chicago winter and it’s below freezing right now.”

“Are you kidding me?”  
“The temperature has apparently dropped in the last few hours.”

Dean grabbed at his hat and gloves in his lap, “I better not lose these then.” 

Cas rolled his eyes, “You really should have brought a better winter coat, Dean.” His eyes traveled up and down Dean’s body for a moment. 

“Like I said, I’ll be fine.” Dean replied smugly, ignoring the small heat in his cheeks. If this was anything to go by, just one glance from Cas would be enough to set his every nerve ending on fire. He’d have no trouble keeping warm.

The train took another sharp turn and Cas slid into Dean, pinning him against the window. Their hands gripped at one another and Cas tightened his around Dean’s, which was in a fist again. Gently, Cas relaxed Dean’s hand, easing his fingers in between each of Dean’s, carefully as if Dean was made of glass. It was gentle and safe, their hands tucked between their bodies pressed against one another just by happen-stance of a turn in the tracks. 

Dean looked again at Cas, his navy blue sweater and dark blue jeans, a well-dressed gentleman; a stark contrast to the random assortment of clothing that Dean had layered on, a black long sleeve shirt underneath a grey Zeppelin tee and his dark green jacket over it. He knew he didn’t deserve it, any of it, but he wanted it so badly that it hurt. So he held on just a little bit tighter to Cas hand. 

“Next stop, Chicago,” the conductor said overhead. 

Cas bowed his head down, avoiding eye contact with Dean as they released one another’s hands. The silence between them was an almost deafening roar with the things left unsaid. The chatter around them from other people had lulled to a low hum, a distant sound beneath the sputtering of the railroad tracks below them and the wind hitting the side of the metal train. They kept moving forward, as everything does, and yet Dean felt like he was frozen in time, in a moment that he wanted to hold on to forever. 

“I’m glad you invited me,” Dean said in a small whisper, barely audible. He faced straightforward, his eyes trained on the doors at the head of the cabin. 

“I’m glad you came,” Cas replied, the hint of relief in his voice. Dean looked over at him and they caught each other’s small smiles as the train rolled to a stop.

They managed to grab all their belongings without too much commotion, except when Dean lost a glove beneath the train on the platform and then Cas tried to wrap a scarf around his neck only to hit a woman in the face who promptly said a few choice words. In the end though, they ended up on Michigan Avenue with their hats pulled down tightly over their ears. 

“Just a little bit further,” Cas said with excitement in his voice. 

“Easy for you to say,” Dean grumbled as he tried to warm the glove-less hand in his pocket. “I might just lose my hand to frostbite.”

Cas stopped and looked at Dean, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Why didn’t you tell me your hand was so cold?”

Dean shrugged, “Nothing to do about it, I lost my glove like an idiot.”

“Here,” Cas said, holding out his hand.

“I’m not taking your glove,” Dean replied, rolling his eyes.

With an exasperated sigh, Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and held it in his own, pulling Dean closer to him. “Just to you know, keep you warmer,” Cas replied, sounding a lot like Dean with a flimsy excuse. Dean let it slide as his body warmed from the gesture.

They walked a few blocks more, holding hands tightly, pressed against their two bodies. They didn’t say much as the snow fell around them, coating them in white, catching on Cas’ long, dark eyelashes. Dean cursed himself for not listening to Cas and actually buying a real winter coat, or even a scarf for that matter. They slowed down a halt as he noticed the large, very large, lit-up Christmas tree in front of them. 

“Welcome to Millenium Park,” Cas said, huddling closer to Dean. Dean looked over at Cas, his heart fluttering as he longed to touch his cheeks, reddened by the cold, or kiss his lips, touch his eyelashes, currently covered in white specs of snow. 

Dean was so lost at watching the lights reflect like stars in Cas’ eyes, he barely noticed an old woman stop in front of them. Dean opened his mouth to excuse himself and step away but she just simply smiled at them. “It’s a great time for young love,” she said, wrapping her coat tighter around her. 

The words caught in Dean’s throat and he opened his mouth only to close it again. His eyes drifted slowly over towards Cas, who had the same expression on his face--wide eyed realization. 

For years they would argue about who moved first, but in all reality, it hit them both at the same time like a runaway train. They moved towards each other at the same time, dropping the bags in their hands and crashing into one another in a messy, desperate kiss. 

Dean’s hands rested on Cas’ cheeks as he pulled him in, while Cas grasped at the front of Dean’s coat in the same manner. Their lips met, and Dean closed his eyes as he sucked gently on Cas’ bottom lip, wetting it like he’d dreamt of all day. When they finally parted, they each exhaled, their air hung in wispy smoke between them and they laughed. 

“Are you still cold?” Cas asked, his eyes sparkling.

“I think I’m good,” Dean replied with a grin.


End file.
